


A Bit of a Doozy

by Liberty_Prime



Series: Amicus, Invictus [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Detective Work, Established Relationship, F/M, Fallout 4 Spoilers, Far Harbor, Fluff, Gen, Post-Blind Betrayal, Romance, Storyline AU, far harbor spoilers, shit gets real mushy, too fluffy tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberty_Prime/pseuds/Liberty_Prime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Victoria Winter learns that Nick Valentine needs help with a case, her and Danse travel to Diamond City to lend a hand.</p><p>Little does she know, he's got more than one case on his hands. One is her own, and the other is of a missing girl not too different from herself.</p><p> </p><p>**<em>March 31 2018: I know it has been almost a year but I swear this work is not abandoned and will be continued this summer</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Hearts and Gentle People

**Author's Note:**

> This is set quite a while after the events of Saving Paladin Danse, (even though I haven't finished it yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but there is no need to read that for this to make sense.
> 
> Slight AU where my SS Victoria Winter is in her early 20s, looking for her missing brother.

The door to Valentine Detective Agency creaked open, and a warm orange light flooded out around her. Darkness was falling and the outside air was getting chilly, but the small office was welcoming with its warm air and always present aroma of coffee and old books. Victoria stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her, brushing the few straggles of brown hair that had come loose from her ponytail out of her eyes. She glanced around. The office was the same as it always was; papers strewn about, drawers sitting open, and paintings hanging lopsided on the concrete and wooden walls. A half-full coffee pot sat forgotten on Valentine’s metal desk beside a clipboard and bent desk fan. The radio hummed pleasantly in the background.

The room was empty, but she could hear some shuffling around coming from the back of the office.

“Is there a detective around here somewhere?” Victoria called, smiling to herself. “I heard of some guy named Valentine, but the name seems kind of cliché.”

“The only _cliché_ thing around here is your sarcasm,” a gruff voice growled from the back of the room. A moment and a few curse words later, Valentine appeared around the corner, carrying a cardboard box full of files.

Victoria put her hands on her hips and grinned. “Hey Nicky.”

“Christ kid, what happened to your face?” Valentine sat down at his desk, tossing the box on the floor beside him and peering up at her, glowing yellow eyes studying her face. The gash that had split open the skin on her right cheekbone was being held together by some haphazard stitches, and while it was healing, the purple bruise that spread across her eye up to her eyebrow did not do it any favours.

“You should see the other guy,” Victoria plopped down in the squeaky chair across the desk from him, flashing a cocky grin. When Nick stared back at her skeptically, she elaborated, a bit less confident: “It was a set of concrete stairs, but man, it looks _way_ worse than I do.”

Valentine scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling to himself as he arranged a few documents on his desk. His metal hand scraped across the surface of the desk a few times as he shuffled the papers around, and she tried not to cringe at the harsh, grating noise.

“My face can just never catch a break,” Victoria continued, eyes still focused on his hands. She ran her own hands down her jean-covered thighs.

“It appears neither can mine, so I guess we’re one in the same,” Nick’s eyes twinkled under the brim of his hat. Victoria smirked. “How’d you manage it this time?”

“Tripped,” she said simply, shrugging. “Climbing on shit I _‘shouldn’t have been climbing on’_ , as usual. A certain someone was _not_ impressed. I got quite the reprimand.”

“Speaking of, where is your other half?”

Victoria watched as he opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out an almost full bottle of whiskey, along with two small glasses. He placed them carefully in front of him.

“I left him in the _very_ capable hands of the Bobrovs. But, I’m betting he’ll be wishing he came with me,” Victoria snickered, smoothing out the wrinkles on the front of her shirt. “So, what’s up? What’s the case?”

“Ah, right,” Valentine scooted his chair forward a bit. “I have a case that is proving to be a bit of a doozy.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Victoria nodded with each affirmation, crossing her legs and pulling out an imaginary notepad and pen and pretending to write: “A bit… of… a … _doozy_.”

Pretending to put a final tap on the imaginary paper with her imaginary pen, she glanced up at Nick. Much to her disappointment, he did not look amused.

“If you’re done being a smartass,” Nick chided, giving her a deadpan stare.

“Sorry,” she grinned, clasping her hands between her knees. “Continue.”

“A while ago, a young girl, about your age, came to me for help finding a missing relative,” he began pouring a glass of whiskey, and pushed it toward Victoria before pouring another. He paused, staring at the whiskey. “You know, I don’t know why I always pour myself a glass. Old habits I guess.”

Victoria snorted. She leaned forward to take the glass he had offered her, studying Valentine’s withered face. “Who’s missing?”

“A young boy, her brother. He’s about sixteen or seventeen I believe.”

She took a sip from her glass and grimaced at the offensive taste, wheezing out: “Is that all you’ve got?”

“He disappeared a while ago, she has no idea when or where. Vanished without a trace.”

“Someone has to have seen _something_ ,” Victoria narrowed her eyes. The radio droned on, softly filling the office with Bob Crosby’s _Dear Hearts and Gentle People_.

“Oddly, no. The one person who may have, happened to be asleep at the time.”

“Seriously? How did no one wake up?” Victoria was honestly astounded. While she had her own experience with someone disappearing suddenly without much of a trace, she hadn’t been present at the time, let alone asleep.

Valentine was giving her an odd look. His expression was a mix of amazed, dumbfounded, and slightly pained.

“Because they were frozen in a Vault.”

Victoria stared at him dumbly for a few moments. Valentine stared back.

“Oh,” was all she said, once the realization hit her.

“Maybe you aren’t the best choice of a partner in this,” Nick teased. “Not exactly a born detective, are ya?” 

“Whatever,” she brushed him off, chuckling. “You coulda been more direct.”

“I thought you would’ve picked up on it quicker,” Valentine reached for a cigarette, and carefully lit it. “Your case has been bugging me since day one. I’ve been working it on and off since, but I’d like to put it to rest for good. I assume you’d be inclined to agree.”

_♪ Because those dear hearts and gentle people, will never ever let you down_

She gazed at him for a few moments, lost in thought. The sight of her brother’s empty cryo pod when she woke up in Vault 111 had never left the back of her mind; she had just kept getting distracted by all the other events happening around her. She had never stopped keeping an eye out for any sign of what may have happened to him, but she hadn’t had any luck so far.

“Victoria?”

Her head snapped up. Nick was looking at her expectantly.

“Yeah. Sorry. I guess I just kind of thought it was a cold case by now, y’know?”

“Well I don’t plan on leaving it that way,” Nick’s old voice was confident and assuring. Victoria knew, in that moment, that he wouldn’t give up; he wouldn’t stop searching until she at least had some answers. She was momentarily overwhelmed by her luck of having someone so caring and selfless in her life.

“Thank you, Nick,” her voice broke slightly as she spoke.

“Don’t thank me until this is over. Now, you should get back to the Dugout and save that man from the Bobrovs, and then get some rest. We can go over the details tomorrow once you’ve refueled.”

Nick stood, ushering her to the door. They bade each other goodnight, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before she stepped outside. Tugging her jacket closer to her body, she made her way back to the Dugout Inn, breath leaving little plumes of condensation in the cold air. The streets were almost deserted, and she nodded to the few umpire-clad guards she passed along the way, boots thudding on the wooden walkways. Finally, she reached the inn.

The smell of sweat and alcohol blasted her in the face when she opened the door, and the happy sounds of drunks singing and laughing filled the air. She spotted a broad back sitting hunched at the counter, head down, in front of Vadim who was chatting away, polishing a glass. Smiling, she made her way towards them.

Putting a hand on his muscular arm, she said: “Hey, you.”

Danse turned towards her, relief flooding his face. “Oh, thank god.”

“Hi, Vadim. You took good care of him for me, I see.”

“Yes, but he did not want any of our famous moonshine!” Vadim’s accented voice sounded hurt. He set the glass he was polishing down on the counter with a clank.

“Please get me out of here,” Danse whispered in her ear, turning his back to Vadim.

“Don’t take it personally, Vadim. He’s never much fun to be around,” Victoria grinned, glancing up at Danse who was giving her an icy stare. “We’re gonna hit the hay though, thanks again!”

She took Danse by the hand and led him through the bar, shooting a quick wave at Hawthorne before reaching the back hallway that led to the room she had rented. 

“That man talks more than any one I have ever met.”

Victoria laughed. “You should’ve come to Nicky’s with me.”

She opened the door of their room, holding it open for him. It shut quietly behind them.

“Not even the Initiates. Or Rhys. Or any of your settlers.”

“I thought we agreed no more Brotherhood talk,” she peered up into his face, adjusting the collar of his shirt. His hands found their way to her waist.

Danse sighed, dark eyes searching hers. “Sorry.”

Victoria reached up to run a hand through his dark hair, and rose on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the side of the mouth. His skin was warm, and his rough stubble scratched at her lips. His cheeks flushed, as they always did, and she beamed as she turned away to kick off her boots and prepare for bed. The room was dim, and consisted only of two mattresses on a bedframe, and a small wardrobe. Victoria was silently glad the Vadims didn’t charge too many caps; the rooms certainly were not luxurious. 

Danse sat down on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the bedside lamp. She rummaged through her bag, back to him.

“What did Valentine wish to see you for?”

Victoria stopped. Hesitantly, she turned to face him. “Um… remember how I told you about my brother?”

With thick eyebrows furrowed, Danse gazed at her. “Of course. He had disappeared from the Vault before you woke up. You… weren’t certain what had happened to him.”

“Yeah, well… that’s what Nick’s working on,” she turned quickly back to her bag. “I guess he never gave up on it, even with everything else he’s dealing with.”

It was quiet as Victoria changed into the oversized white t-shirt of his she had stolen from him to sleep in. She had originally done it to annoy him, and the scolding she had received had not disappointed her. But, months had passed, and she had simply never given the shirt back. Danse had never admitted to the fact, but he liked seeing her in it.

When she faced him again, Victoria noticed he had been watching her. His eyes examined her face thoughtfully, and she stood in front of him feeling a bit awkward.

“I would be glad to help you search for your brother,” Danse said finally, voice sincere. “If you would like me to, that is.”

She closed the distance between them with a few steps, and rested her hand on the side of his neck.

“I wouldn’t completely hate it,” she smirked. 

Danse offered a small smile in return, shaking his head. “Get into bed and get some rest, you utter nuisance.”

Victoria cackled as she climbed around him and laid down, pulling him down with her and snuggling into his side. They settled into each other.

“Nicky’s so good. He doesn’t even have to help people. He certainly doesn’t owe anyone anything. Most people are awful to him. Can you imagine being _that_ selfless?”

“Go to sleep.”

“We’ll go get some breakfast in the morning before meeting Nick, I hope you don’t mind eating noodles first thing. There isn’t much of a choice. I’d say we should take some to Nick but he doesn’t eat. He seems insistent on attempting to drink th-”

“Shush!”


	2. Easy Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing an overhaul of this so this chapter has been fairly edited. Might wanna re-read if you've been following!

A heavy fog had settled over the city during the early hours of the morning, and it shrouded the streets and market in a quiet and eerie blanket. The room was still dark when Victoria slowly opened her eyes. For a moment, she forgot where she was, but the lumpy bed and scratchy covers soon reminded her: The Dugout Inn. She rolled over to where Danse was sleeping, reaching a hand out to touch his arm. The space was empty and cold.

“Danse?” she sat up, holding the covers up to her chest. Slightly panicked, her eyes darted around the dark room. She knew, realistically, that he had probably just gone out for a walk, or to get breakfast, but a part of her was always worried he had been hurt or taken. It had happened before. She knew it could happen again. Anytime he left her sight, she worried; there were worse people than Gunners on the lookout for Danse. Even though she knew the Bobrovs would keep an eye out and not let anyone into their room, she still found her heart hammering against her ribs as she glanced around for Danse or his belongings. There was a small crack of light coming from under the bathroom door, and when she listened she could hear the faint sound of running water. Victoria sighed, rolling her eyes, and laid back down on the hard, musky bed.

“ _Idiot_ ,” she muttered to herself. Rolling back over, she tugged the bedspread up to her shoulders and snuggled back into the coarse straw pillow. Closing her eyes, she let out another sigh. Her heartbeat slowed.

The broken bathroom door creaked open, light flooding the room where Victoria pretended to still be sleeping. Danse was quiet as he moved about the room, and she peeked an eye open to watch him. Only dressed in pants, his strong back was bare, and a few drops of water glistened in the faint light as they dripped down from his still-wet hair. He rummaged through his bag, and she quickly closed her eyes when he turned to face her.

“I know you are awake. Time to get up.”

She groaned. “Just five more minutes.”

He approached the bed, grabbing her foot through the cover and shaking it. “Get up.”

Hiding her smile under the blanket, she kicked, trying to free herself from his grasp. He would not relent, and grabbed her ankle, pulling her easily towards the edge of the bed and partially out of the warmth of the blanket.

“No,” she whined, covering her face with one arm and gripping the bedspread with the other hand, trying to cover herself back up.

“I am not going out there alone. I don’t think Vadim sleeps.”

Victoria cackled. “Alright tough guy, afraid of a mere barkeep?”

She peeked up at him from under her arm. He was beautiful as ever in the faint light still pouring out from the bathroom. With his damp hair, beginnings of a beard, and a white long-sleeve shirt that fit him tightly… he was stunning. She reveled in his beauty for a moment, before planting her free foot on his thigh and trying to shove him away. 

Exasperated, Danse gave up and grabbed his coat. It was a black bomber jacket Victoria had bought him from Fallon’s Basement to replace his old Brotherhood jacket. It was good quality and expertly armoured, much to his surprise. If he had still been in the Brotherhood, he would have suggested armoured jackets to Teagan. It was an ingenious design that Danse had never encountered before.

Victoria groaned. “What time is it?”

“Six thirty.”

“Ew,” she complained, sitting up. Throwing the covers off herself, she stood, stumbling over to the olive coloured couch where she had left her jeans the night before. She pulled them on before taking off Danse’s shirt and replacing it with her own. She yanked on her boots, not bothering to tie up the laces, and shrugged into her own jacket. 

“How’s my hair?” she joked, knowing full well it desperately needed to be brushed out. It had grown longer than she had ever let it, falling down well past her shoulders blades, and she had started wearing it in a low ponytail or a bun to keep it from getting caught in zippers and ending up in her mouth. It drove her crazy, but she couldn’t be bothered to get it cut.

Danse opened their room’s door, waiting for her to exit into the hallway first. Soft sounds of people talking drifted down from the bar, and as she approached, Victoria noticed a few people already at the counter. She realized perhaps they weren’t already there, but had rather been there all night. Taking Danse’s hand, she led him through the room and down the hallway to the front door.

“God, I think Pete Pembroke has been here all night,” she muttered to him. “I heard his wife is cheating on him with some guy from the Stands. They should take better care of their kid, his clothes are always so tatty.”

“Perhaps _you_ should mind your own business,” Danse muttered back. Victoria scoffed, opening the front door of the Dugout Inn and stepping into the still dark of the early morning. The air was foggy and crisp, and she tugged her jacket closer with her free hand. They exchanged good-mornings with the few guards they passed, but the streets of Diamond City were still mostly deserted. Victoria knew Danse preferred going out early when it wasn’t busy. He had mentioned on several occasions that people were staring.

_“That’s because you’re a big, beautiful man._ ” She had said. “ _It’s impossible not to stare at you_.”

He had remained unconvinced, certain that people had somehow figured out what he was. She had assured him no one could possible know, and told him to stop worrying. However, deep down, Victoria was just as paranoid as him; after everything that had happened to them, she was suspicious of anyone who spared them anything more than a glance. Everyone was a potential spy, kidnapper, or assassin in Victoria’s eyes. 

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

“Hi Takahashi, yes,” Victoria said, sitting on one of the barstools in front of the Power Noodle counter. Danse sat down beside her. The radio played smoothly in the quiet morning air, Billie Holiday’s voice the only sound aside from Takahashi’s whirring systems.

♪ _Living for you is easy living, it’s easy living when you’re in love_

Two bowls of noodles were set in front of them, and Victoria thanked the protectron, setting a few extra caps down as a tip. Danse was hunched over the counter, looking around the market. He seemed uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? Is someone looking?” she glanced around. “Who do I have to fight?”

Danse shook his head and turned to his bowl. “You are ridiculous.”

“I’ll fight anyone for you Dansey pants,” she gave him a joking grin. She knew he hated that nickname, but he didn’t rise to her teasing. 

They ate in silence as Diamond City started to wake up. A few other residents walked up to Power Noodles for their breakfast, and some of the shopkeepers began to open their stores. Piper’s sister Nat assumed her usual spot to sell newspapers, and John resumed his usual haircut heckling. The fog slowly started to lift, and a few rays of sunshine peeked over the walls of the stadium.

“I had so many crazy dreams this morning. Must have missed out on a lot of REM sleep lately or somethin’.”

Danse titled his head. “Ram sleep? What is that?”

She snorted, reaching out to rub a spot of dirt from his cheek the way a mother would a child. “REM sleep,” she emphasized. “It’s the kind of sleep where you dream. It’s the most important kind.”

“Why is it called that?”

“It stands for rapid eye movements. Because there are… a lot of… rapid eye movements.”

He gave her a quizzical look. She laughed, partly at him, but mostly at herself and her knack for giving terrible explanations.

“Your eyes dart back and forth a lot during that kind of sleep. Dunno why but they do.” She turned back to her last few noodles, unaware of Danse watching her thoughtfully. He never voiced it, but as much as he knew she admired him, he often felt inadequate. He was not educated the way she was, and while he had done his best to learn what he could from books and stories while selling scrap in Rivet City and training in the Brotherhood, in his mind his own knowledge could not compare to the vast knowledge she seemed to have. She often spoke of things he had never even heard of. It always amazed him.

Noodles finished, Victoria set her hand on Danse’s forearm. “Good to go?”

He nodded in response. Hand in hand, they made their way down the back alley towards Valentine Detective Agency. The door groaned as she opened it and the scent of cigarette smoke greeted them as they entered. Nick was seated at his desk, ruffling through a file. A pot of coffee was brewing on the table beside him. A cigarette burned in the ashtray. 

“Ah, there you two are. Take a seat. Let me tell you about this new lead.”


	3. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have risen from the dead and am posting again.
> 
> Some swearing in this chapter.

“What do you mean, in the _Brotherhood_?”

Victoria had risen from her chair, indignant. Nick was fixing her with the same calm expression he had worn throughout the entire conversation.

“It is the most promising lead I have received so far.”

“You do realize how impossible that is,” Victoria said sharply. She turned to Danse, who was watching her warily. “He does realize that’s impossible?!”

Danse began: “Vic-”

“I was in the Brotherhood!”

“Victoria,” Danse dialed his stern voice up to medium. “There are hundreds of soldiers in the Brotherhood. It is quite possible that he was either there and we never encountered him, or that he was out in the field. I would occasionally go weeks without encountering Halen or Rhys on the Prydwen alone.”

It was silent for a moment. Nick’s chair squeaked. 

“We have the same last name!”

Nick sighed, not exasperated, but a bit tired. “You know there are people who exist with the same names who aren’t related, right? You’re not related to Eddie Winter, are you?” 

Victoria pursed her lips. 

“He also could have given a false name,” Nick stated. The fingers of his flesh hand were interlaced with the metal ones, resting on his abdomen as he leaned back in his chair. The hot plate he usually used to make coffee was clicking.

“Why would he give a false name?”

“There are many reasons why someone would give a false name,” Danse spoke. “I am honestly a little surprised you gave your true name, given your… tendency to exaggerate and make up stories.”

Jaw clenched, Victoria stared at the wall to the right of where Nick sat, fingers picking at the cuticles of her thumbs while she mulled the information over.

“We should at least follow up on the lead.”

“Yeah... Maybe.”

“Think it over. We’ll go get some supplies today, but you guys should probably rest for a couple more days before we head out.”

Victoria glanced at Danse. Normally when she had a mission lined up, she would we raring to go as soon as possible. The anticipation of waiting was always hard. But this time, she didn’t feel the usual urge to rush out and get things done. She wanted to rest, and wanted to spend some time with Danse where they weren’t always in a rush. 

At the same time, she felt a twinge of guilt for not wanting to rush out and find her brother. Part of her feared that it wouldn’t be him. Another part of her feared that it would be. 

“Why don’t we go get some supplies? You’ll have to go to Diamond City Surplus. Myrna doesn’t like me much.”

“I’m not buying anything from that bitch. Why can’t we go back when Percy is there?”

Instead of arguing, Nick sighed and stood. “Fine. But we can get supplies from Arturo in the meantime.” 

\----  
The market was bustling. The fog still covered the City but its residents were up for the day, haggling and shouting and laughing despite the dreary weather. Kids ran about the market playing games of tag, friends stumbled about drunk, and guards eyed everyone warily. Victoria said hi to Sheffield and discreetly gave him a couple caps to buy a Nuka-Cola. Danse had already approached Commonwealth Weaponry and was browsing through the merchandise when Victoria came up beside him. Nick spoke with Moe Cronin for a few minutes before eventually joining them to look through Arturo’s guns. 

“Stock up on ammo, I’m running a little short,” Nick paused, looking off to the far end of the market as if he had suddenly seen something. “I’ll be right back.”

“What? Where are you going?” Victoria’s gaze darted around the market, trying to find whatever or whomever it was that Nick had seen.

Nick didn’t answer. He walked off, coat flapping lightly in the breeze. Slightly panicked, Victoria shoved the merchandise she had been holding into Danse’s arms, and, ignoring his confused -and stern- protests, followed hastily behind Nick. She quickly apologized to the woman whose shoulder she bumped on her way by, and came up behind Nick just as he began speaking to a dark-haired man in a red football jacket:

“Excuse me. I just wanted to stop by, offer my services again.”

The man, who looked to be about forty, took a wary step backwards. “Oh no. You get the hell away from me, _synth_. I’m not telling you anything about Buddy, just so you can snatch him.”

“Whoa pal, back off,” Victoria tried to interrupt. Nick ignored her outburst, continuing on speaking to the man as if she wasn’t even there.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to help you bring Buddy home.” Nick said sincerely. The sun was just peaking through the mist, visible yellow rays cutting through the fog. The crowd around the market paid them no mind, going about their business as usual.

The man took a few steps away and turned to Victoria, finger pointed at her chest. “You keep that synth _freak_ at arm’s length, you understand me?”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Victoria stepped forward, bumping past Nick as a shot of red-hot anger streaked through her. She got closer to the man, shoulders back and ready to get physical. “What did you say? Huh? What’s your issue?”

The man leaned away from her, an indignant expression on his scruffy face.

“Hey, pal, I asked you what your fucking issue is!” She roughly shoved him in the shoulder. He stumbled. A few of the people shopping for gear at Swatters turned to watch the commotion. One of the Diamond City guards rolled his eyes and tightened the grip on his bat, ready to break up a fight.

Before she had a chance to shove the man again, a strong hand grabbed her arm. 

“Victoria,” Danse’s voice warned.

“No!” She wasn’t sure when he had shown up, or how much he had heard, and she tried to break free of his grip. “This guy needs to learn to not-”

She turned back to give the man a few more words, arm still wrenched in Danse’s steel grip, but the man was nowhere to be seen. He had scampered off at the first opportunity, leaving her fuming.

Nick’s calm voice interrupted her. “He is allowed to have an opinion, kid. Leave it.”

“Fucking asshole. You should’ve let me drop that guy, Nick.”

“I appreciate you defending my honour,” Nick said, a hint of humour in his voice. “But you can’t change everyone’s minds.”

“That’s so fucking rude!” She nearly shouted. “Who even is that prick?”

“He lost his kid, Victoria. Disappeared in the middle of the night.” Nick’s voice was steady, reassuring, and still calm. The voice he used when he was trying to comfort a client.

Danse was still gripping her arm, as if he was afraid she would bolt to go find the man. His hand was big enough to wrap entirely around her upper arm, and she felt like a child in his grasp.

“You were offering to help him and he’s gonna treat you like that?” She reached up and absentmindedly began to try to pry open Danse’s fingers.

“People are still wary of the Institute and synths. I still do my best to let people know I don’t mean them any harm, but people are stubborn, kid. Stubborn and set in their ways. They need someone to blame, and if it has to be me, then I have to live with that.”

“That’s bullshit,” she was still trying in vain to pry open Danse’s hand. “Total bullshit. I hate them. Every last one.”

“He lost his kid,” Danse repeated what Nick had said.

“Everybody’s lost somebody,” Victoria snapped. “It isn’t an excuse to be an asshole.”

With a grunt she ripped her arm out of Danse’s grip and walked away from them, towards the Dugout Inn. She needed someone to bitch to, and she knew Vadim was always glad to listen and gossip. The other two watched her go, Danse letting out an exasperated sigh and Nick shaking his head, a slight smirk on his imperfect face.


	4. Right Behind You Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This got way mushier than I originally intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also somehow there are spoilers for my other work, the ending of which I haven't even actually written yet????

The door to their rented room at the Dugout Inn creaked open, and Danse stepped cautiously inside. He had managed to sneak past the bartender without being seen, and was a little wary as to what kind of mood Victoria would be in. The room was dim. A crack of light shone through the dirty, partly boarded up window, cutting through the dust filled air. The radio on Victoria’s pipboy was turned up, and through the dust and low light he could see that she was laying on her back on the bed, arms behind her head and eyes closed. A floorboard creaked under his weight and she peeked an eye open, looking him up and down before resuming her previous position.

Danse was slightly concerned by her reaction, or rather lack thereof; he could have easily been an intruder, here to steal her things. Or worse.

Slowly, he lowered himself until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. After a moment of nothing but the radio playing, he cleared his throat. Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes and turned the music down.

“Hi,” she said. Her jaw clenched. She didn’t make eye contact.

“When did you become so confrontational?” Danse asked, cutting right to the chase and trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. Then he paused, as if considering his question. “…With people other than myself, Elder Maxson, and anyone else in the Brotherhood?”

Victoria smirked, rolling her eyes.

“When most of my friends became people who aren’t humans? And humans became massive dicks?”

This time it was Danse’s turn to roll his eyes, shoulders slumping.

“I mean, massiver dicks than they were before,” she added.

“That is not a word.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a few moments. The dust tickled at his nose.

“MacCready told me you almost attacked a kid for insulting me.” His dark eyes looked up at her, a disapproving yet gentle expression on his always-stern face.

Victoria was silent, staring at him suspiciously. He raised an expectant eyebrow in response. Getting up from the bed with a worrying creak, she walked towards the faded couch, arms crossed, before turning back to face him.

“When did he tell you that?”

“Him and I spoke after you both returned me to Sanctuary. He said you were… quite… _explosive_. Any time someone spoke ill of me.”

“That little shit!” she yelped. “I’m gonna kill him!”

“You cannot keep doing this,” he urged. “You cannot fight every person who speaks ill of a friend. You cannot-”

“I-”

“-keep being so confrontational with civilians.” He ignored her interjection without missing a beat, as if he had done it a hundred times before. She fleetingly realized that he had.

“You sound exactly like MacCready,” she threw up her hands. “Which is not something I thought I would ever say. Your reaction, even your words are the same! What kind of a trip is this?! Not a good one.”

Danse’s mouth was set in a firm line. “Nick, and Hancock, and myself, are grown men. We can handle a few rude comments or snide remarks.”

Victoria’s jaw clenched. She had only a brief second to notice he had used Hancock’s real name, instead of _the ghoul_ , and it almost caused her to momentarily forget the scolding she was receiving. Almost.

“I understand that you feel you need to protect us. But you keep attempting to protect us in situations that do not warrant it. A harmless civilian in Diamond City, or a _child_ out in the Commonwealth, do not require, nor deserve, your anger.”

Fists clenched and unclenched, and Victoria desperately tried to think of a rebuttal.

“And besides; you have protected me enough. More times than I can count, and certainly more times than I deserved.”

“I’d fight the entire Brotherhood of Steel with my bare hands to protect you.”

His eyes crinkled from a very slight smile, crow’s feet stretching from his tired eyes. “I know. And you would most certainly lose.”

Her heart did a backflip at his answer, and the way he smiled slightly when he said it. She took a couple more steps toward him, floorboards creaking under her. “I don’t know about that. Don’t underestimate how crazy they can make me.”

“You would n-”

“You didn’t see me Hulk-out on Lukas that one time on the flight deck,” she interrupted. “Straight up threw him on his ass.”

Danse sighed, hanging his head in defeat.

“I love you,” she said quickly. Blurted, rather.

Danse looked up at her from under creased eyebrows, studying her face. The expressions that lined his features were a mix of concern, confusion, and defeat. She gaped at him with wide eyes, heart pounding against her ribs. She hadn’t meant to say it.

“I know,” he said. He almost sounded sad.

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. She hadn’t meant to say it. She had said it, once before. One time, long before now, in a rush of emotion, when she thought he couldn’t hear her. She had blurted it then, too. But he had been barely conscious, and she had been certain he did not hear her, let alone remember it.

It had made the fact that he did not return her feelings hurt a little less. 

But now, with her cards accidentally out in the open, and the uneasy look on his face, she thought maybe it was time to do what she does best: run away. But instead, she was frozen in place, staring at him with stinging eyes and a lump in her throat as his dark eyes gazed back at her in resignation.

“I… I love you too.”

Victoria started, swallowing thickly. Eyebrows drawn together, she whispered: “What?”

Sighing, he readjusted his position on the bed, running strong hands along stronger thighs. One of those hands rose up and ran down his face, stopping momentarily to rub at the beard starting to shadow his cheeks. “I wanted so badly to protect you.”

“…You do,” she said, confused. “All the time.”

“No. Not from creatures or raiders,” he sighed. “Vic, I wanted to protect you from me.”

She stood before him in stunned silence.

“You deserve better. I may not be very adept with… feelings. But I have always known you had feelings for me, and I tried and tried to push you away. It innerved me that you kept coming back, and made me angrier that you would not let me be after the… Brotherhood became privy to my being a synth. While I was grateful, it also made me angry that you would not let me die.”

A pang stabbed her stomach at the memory of finding him in that bunker, unkempt, defeated, with whiskey on his breath and nothing but pain and desperation in his eyes.

“I denied and ignored my feelings for you because I was afraid of what I would do to you. How I would destroy you or lose you as I seem to do with everything else,” his hands clenched into fists where they were resting on his thighs. “I thought you needed protecting. But you have proved me wrong on that more times than I care to count. And by the way things always seem to go, it is apparent I am the one who keeps needing protecting. It is not fair to you.”

“I-” Victoria was at a loss for words. His eyes met hers for the first time since he had started speaking.

“I kept hoping one day you would never come back to me… That you would finally see that you deserve so much more. When the Gunners first grabbed me, I thought: _‘Finally. Finally I’ll be gone, out of her life for good and she can move on.’_ But you are so relentless. Tenacious. You always have been. I would never be able to leave you, because you would, without any doubt, find me wherever I went. You have also already proven that.”

All Victoria could do was continue to stand before him, dumbstruck. 

“I heard you. The first time you said it,” Danse stated. Her cheeks flushed.

“I know you thought I didn’t. And I thought maybe it was a dream. I thought you had to have been a dream,” his hand reached up to rub at his shoulder through the thick material of his shirt. “After a few days tied to that chair, I knew I was going to die. It was inevitable; no one knew where I was, and the Gunners wrongly assumed Maxson would pay the bounty to save my life. I was going to die, and soon. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to. I kept thinking about all the mistakes I made in my life, and I realized the biggest one I ever made was not telling you the truth.” He shifted, sliding back further onto the bed.

“I… I almost told you, once. That time in Beantown, when I was stupid enough to let you make me drink around you,” Danse said, his gaze distant. “When I was captured, at first I kept thinking about that moment, and how hurt you looked, and how at the time… I was glad you were hurt. I thought it would make you leave. But looking back, I was not glad anymore. And I knew then that I had to live long enough to tell you.

“I know you thought I did not hear you, after you saved me, but I did. I heard it, and it reminded me I had to keep fighting. I could not die, because I knew if I did… you would still try to follow me.”

Tears stung at her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. Unsuccessful, she bit down on her tongue, hoping the pain would distract her from his words.

“But then when I woke up, I thought maybe it _had_ been a dream. But either way, we were both safe, and… I became scared again. So I did not tell you.”

Losing the battle with her tears, she abruptly turned away from him to face the window. The sleeve-covered backs of her wrists were shoved into her eyes to try to keep them dry, and she held her breath to avoid sniffling.

“Please do not be angry with me. You have every right to be, but… I am sorry.”

“I-I’m not,” she spluttered, back still turned to him. “I’m not a-angry.”

She felt like a child- as he often made her feel- hiding her tears, trying to appear strong. It didn’t matter either way; her eyes would be red and puffy regardless of whether he saw her cry. 

“You seem angry.”

With one last quick rub and sniffle, she turned back to him, hands shaking and eyes burning. “I’m not. I just-”

Studying his features as his worried expression studied hers, she took a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t like it when you say stuff like that. I don’t deserve better than you because there isn’t anyone better than you for me.”

Now that she was closer, she could see his eyes too were slightly wet. 

“And… I also do not think there is anyone better for me than you.”

With that, Victoria gave up on trying not to cry. The tears spilled over, and as she walked towards him to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she thought she saw some wetness on his cheeks as well. Strong arms wrapped around her middle and held her close to his strong chest. Face buried in the crook of her neck, he whispered another _I love you_ , almost too quiet to hear, and she hid her tears in his hair as she whispered it back. Neither were sure how long they stayed like that, holding each other in the dim light of their cheap dusty motel room.

**Author's Note:**

> After Far Harbor, I desperately wanted to write some Nick Valentine/SS detective stuff so I figured why not carry on the story line from my other works instead of agonizing over what kind of investigation to do? 
> 
> Comments welcome!


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